


A Job Well Done

by haruka



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, POTC - Freeform, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-16
Updated: 2006-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haruka/pseuds/haruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norrington has Jack Sparrow at his mercy</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Job Well Done

A Job Well Done (A Pirates of the Caribbean fic)

By Haruka (haruka@ymail.com)

\--

Commodore Norrington had a headache. And its name was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"He did _what_?" Norrington asked the lieutenant in his doorway, wearily rubbing his eyes.

"After you generously allowed him to attend the Turner wedding, Sir, several guests complained of missing jewelry or coin purses and even wedding gifts. We apprehended Sparrow as he was slipping out the back way. Several of the smaller items were found on his person, but he must have stashed the rest."

"He is behind bars now then?"

"Yes sir," the lieutenant said. "He has had many chances and has taken advantage of your generosity too often. We should just hang him and rid the world of his treachery."

"If we hang him now, we won't find out where he hid the other items he stole," Norrington pointed out. "No, I want you to bring him to me, and post guards outside while I speak to him privately." He sat back and slowly drummed his fingertips on the table. "We shall see if Captain Jack Sparrow can respond to simple reasoning. If he cannot, perhaps I shall introduce a whole new method of persuasion to him."

\--

If they're going to keep throwing me into this same bloody cell, the least they could do is put my name on it, Jack Sparrow thought as he touched the stone surface of his prison cell wall and let his fingertips drift over the roughness he found there. Nothing too ostentatious, he amended, just a simple plaque. In gold, perhaps. 'Captain Jack Sparrow was here -- again.'

He hadn't mean any harm, truly. Will and Elizabeth were his friends after all, and it had been their wedding. He had only pilfered a few items that he knew would fetch a lot more money in resale, and then he could donate the bigger amount to them as his own wedding gift. With a small finder's fee for himself, of course. A pirate couldn't live on good deeds alone, after all.

Ah, but someone was coming. Jack glanced over without turning his head and recognized the lieutenant who had helped lock him in there. "You missed me already, mate?" he asked lightly.

"Commodore Norrington wishes to speak to you." The lieutenant unlocked Jack's cell and waited for him to come out. There were two other guards with him -- they were taking no chances. Jack nearly made a comment about overkill since his wrists were still in irons, but considering he'd made one of his last escapes in the same position, he decided against it. Besides, he was intrigued. Why would the Commodore want to speak to him? Why not just take him to the gallows?

He didn't bother asking his escorts those questions -- no one told lackeys anything. So instead he regaled them with his favorite off-colour joke all the way to the Commodore's headquarters.

"Captain Sparrow," Commodore Norrington said in the same tone someone might use to say 'dog droppings.'

"It is a pleasure to see you again, as well, Commodore.” Despite the shackles, Jack removed his hat and managed a sweeping bow before donning the hat once more and taking a seat in front of the table. He put his boots up on the edge, crossing his legs. "Imagine my delight upon hearing that you had requested an audience with me."

"Yes, I'm sure it was the highlight of your life thus far." The Commodore nodded to his men still hovering in the doorway. "Remove the irons. Then leave us."

"A-Are you sure about that, Sir?" The lieutenant glanced at Jack, who assumed an expression of complete innocence.

"I think Captain Sparrow is curious enough about what I have to say NOT to try and escape just yet," Norrington eyed the pirate. "Am I right?"

Jack made a fluid gesture with his bound hands from forehead to foreground in symbolic acquiesce. "You have the word of Captain Jack Sparrow on that," he promised.

"Huh," the lieutenant scoffed. "And we all know what the word of a pirate is worth! But if you wish it, Commodore, we'll wait out here."

"Not in the corridor," Norrington said. "Outside the building -- at front and back. Do not worry about me, I will be fine."

His men left reluctantly after removing the wrist shackles from their prisoner, giving Jack warning looks and receiving a gold-toothed grin in return before the door shut.

Jack jumped to his feet. "An _excellent_ bit of command shown there, Commodore!" His fingers tapped together lightly then he spread his arms wide, leaning forward for emphasis, before drawing back and forward again like a bobbing bird. "There's no mistaking you for anyone but a man who knows how to handle other men!"

Commodore Norrington studied the personage before him. Jack Sparrow was a mass of contradictions. He was a pirate, but was as unlikely a pirate as one could imagine. Pirates swaggered -- Jack swayed. He spoke with his hands as much as with his mouth, his whole persona was charismatic and flagrantly expressive. Pirates were not supposed to be charming. Even the layer of dirt on his skin and in his long, dreadlocked hair could not hide the fact that he was handsome. Pirates were not supposed to be handsome, either.

And yet for all his odd behavior and non-conventional ways, Jack was exactly what he'd just claimed Norrington was -- a man who knew how to handle other men. Pirates would follow Jack on fools’ errands and come up successful.

But those were pirates. When it came down to just the two of them, there was no question in Norrington's mind who would leave this room the victor. Now was the time to convince Jack of that.

“Captain Sparrow,” the Commodore said evenly, “you were found to be in possession of several missing items belonging to guests at the Turner wedding. While I am not at all surprised that you would do such a thing to anyone else, I had thought that you held a certain fondness for those two.”

“Very true, Commodore, very true,” Jack dipped his head in a brief nod. “The newly-married couple are indeed very good friends of mine.” He opened his palms in front of him. “Why else would I go to so much trouble to obtain said items so that I may double their worth for the newlyweds?”

“Your twisted reasoning aside, there are still a few larger, very expensive items missing from the gift table,” Norrington told him. “I know you took them, and I want to know where you’ve hidden them.”

Jack’s fingers played with his beaded beard languidly. He gave the other man a cagey look. “Now, let’s think about this a moment. Why, if I had gotten away with such a deed, would I now admit it and seal my fate? What could possibly be in it for me?”

Commodore Norrington stepped closer, until he was directly in front of Jack. “As you well know, Elizabeth Swa – Turner – is also a good friend of _mine_.”

Jack raised his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. “I do believe I remember a wedding that never took place, yes.”

Norrington ground his teeth together. “Exactly. Despite she having chosen to be with that blacksmith-turned-pirate, I still wish her every happiness in the world. It is her desire that you go free, even though you took advantage of she and her husband’s friendship. However, I shall not do so unless we have the return of all the stolen goods.” His eyes bore into the other man’s. “For her sake, as well as to save your own useless neck, will you not tell me what I want to know?”

Jack sighed heavily, letting his shoulders visibly sag. “Would that I could, mate. But the swag is at this moment in transit – passed from my hand to that of another, then to another, and so on and so forth.”

“And where is it supposed to end up – on your ship? Providing you still have one, that is.”

Jack laughed and shook a finger at him. “Very good, Commodore! Yes, I have a ship, and yes, that would be where the items are stashed to be sold. You’ll understand if I cannot bring your men aboard to retrieve them – my crew are a little skittish around soldiers.”

Norrington snorted softly. “And I’m sure there would be no chance of your returning all of it should we let you go.”

“Hmmm, no.” Jack shook his head sadly. “I could not do that to Elizabeth and Will. The gifts are good as they are, I suppose, but the return on them will be SO much better that I would not truly be a friend to them if I let the opportunity pass, savvy?” He gave the Commodore a mournful look. “I suppose you will have no choice but to hang me, and of course, that will just break Elizabeth’s heart. How sad to see the end of such a friendship as you and she shared.” He lifted a finger delicately under one eye and swept away an invisible tear.

If Jack had been paying attention, he might have noticed the Commodore’s body language change in a subtle manner. His muscles tensed, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth formed a grim, determined line.

“There is ONE other choice left to me, Captain Sparrow,” he said. “The one where I stop reasoning with you and begin persuading you to see things my way.”

Jack’s eyebrows lifted curiously. “How intriguing. I wonder what your methods of persuasion might entail? Torture in the prison, I suppose?”

“No, you will have changed your mind by the time we leave this room,” Norrington said with confidence. “And there will be nothing so barbaric as torture.” He took a measured step forward, drawing his sword from its sheath.

Jack danced backwards a couple of steps, looking genuinely surprised. “Commodore, I would never have expected this from someone of your station. To draw a sword on an unarmed man? That’s an action worthy of a pirate!”

Norrington smiled then, and for a moment Jack could actually _see_ this man as a pirate in another life. That spark of devilry in the eyes didn’t come to normal men.

“You presume incorrectly, Sparrow,” the Commodore said. “For as you are about to find out, there is more than ONE use for a sword.”

Norrington lunged, and Jack made the fatal mistake of assuming he was lunging with his sword arm. When the pirate moved to avoid it, he suddenly found himself caught by the Commodore’s free hand. Jack’s arm was twisted behind his back and in one swift turn he was spun around and shoved face-down onto the tabletop.

Well, this was unexpected, Jack thought, wondering if the crazed Commodore was about to start lopping off his fingers one by one, or maybe his head would fall victim to the sword’s edge first.

He had to admit to being further confused when he realized his long coat was being pushed up onto his back. Then he felt the blade against his neck.

“Drop your breeches, pirate.”

Jack turned his head slowly – it was difficult with his face pressed into the wood. “Might I inquire as to the reason?” he asked.

“Because I tell you to.”

“I see. Well, in that case, I can hardly say no, can I?” Jack shifted slightly to get his hands underneath him and worked on unfastening his breeches. Curious as a cat he might be, but he had a feeling he would do better to try and overpower the Commodore and make a run for it – his given word be damned. As the lieutenant had said, what good was the word of a pirate, anyway?

Unfortunately, the sharp sword-edge was still against his neck and he could already feel it cutting the flesh slightly as he maneuvered around to push the breeches over his hips. Escape was impossible from this position.

“Hands behind your back.”

Commodore Norrington had apparently considered the possibility of an escape attempt as well. “When are you going to tell me what you’re about, mate?” Jack asked as he obediently slid his wrists back into view, where the Commodore promptly grasped them both in one hand. He held them tightly at the small of Jack’s back.

Norrington ignored the other man’s question for the time being. He was still shaking his head at the sight of Jack’s bare backside. He imagined that any pirate would have a hairy, blemished, and most definitely unsightly rear end. How could this man’s buttocks be so firm, smooth and unmarred by naught save the same layer of dirt that covered the rest of his body? Was there anything about Captain Jack Sparrow that was NOT the opposite of what his ‘occupation’ claimed he should be?

Oh yes, he was a skilled thief. Precisely one of the reasons he had come to be in this position.

At last he decided to respond to Jack’s question. “Rather than tell you,” he said, drawing back the sword, “I shall show you.”

Jack closed his eyes tightly. This was it – and he still had no idea what exactly ‘it’ was.

The flat of the sword struck painfully across Jack’s bare bottom, making the pirate gasp. What in the seven hells was this man doing to him?

The sword landed again in the same spot, and this time the burning sting of it drew a hiss from between Jack’s lips. Damn it, he was being _spanked_! He, Captain Jack Sparrow! What on Earth was the Commodore thinking?! He yelped as the sword connected a third time, in a slightly lower spot, bringing fresh pain to new regions. And it went on.

“Uh, Commodore Norrington – AAH! -- I would like to ask why – OUCH! – you think that such an action – OHH! -- would make any difference in – OWW! – whether or not I return the – AHH! – items to you?”

“Perhaps it won’t, Captain Sparrow,” Norrington replied, deliberately smacking the sword flat against Jack’s thighs and taking satisfaction in how the other man was shifting around, trying to avoid the blows. “However, it is doing ME a world of good to see you squirm under my hand.”

“Under your _sword_, anyway,” Jack muttered.

“My hand holds the sword, pirate,” the Commodore reminded him. “However, if you prefer to do this with no barriers, I shall accommodate you.”

Jack felt Norrington release his wrists long enough to transfer the sword to his other hand but did not attempt to escape. He still had his back to the man with control of the sword, and that was not a good position to start from. Aside from that, his breeches were around his ankles, effectively hobbling him for any quick actions. In the span of half a second, the hand with the sword was pressing the flat of it against his wrists. Jack noticed with a sense of wry bitterness that the steel was still hot from spanking him. No wonder his backside burned.

He nearly jumped into the air when he felt the Commodore’s open palm rest against his left buttock. Oh no, he thought. He had been serious!

“You know,” he drawled in an attempt to sound nonchalant about being a grown man, and a pirate no less, face-down, receiving a child’s punishment, “this is rather unseemly for a man of my reputation.”

“I beg to differ,” the Commodore said shortly. “You are a scoundrel and a criminal. What you deserve most, I cannot give you. However, this is a memory that both of us will carry forever, Sparrow. Every time you think of it, you will wince, if not from recalling the pain, then at least the humiliation.”

The hand left his skin, then was back with a vengeance. The whack was so sharp that Jack feared his crew would hear it even from miles away on the Black Pearl. And it hurt even more than the sword had!

“Perhaps if someone had done this when you were a child, you would not have gone the way of the pirate, Sparrow,” Norrington whacked the other man firmly and repeatedly, alternating buttocks at first, then smacking him straight across the center.

“Oh, but – OUCH! – I _was_ spanked as a child, Commodore – OWW! – and I fled to the seas to avoid – AHH! – further such treatment.”

“I do not believe you, but then you are a liar and a thief.” Norrington gave the pirate’s reddened thighs some special attention with the flat of his hand next. He could hear the grunts of pain in between the genuine outcries Jack made when he attempted to speak. He doubted he could force tears from him, but it didn’t much matter. He _was_ causing Jack Sparrow pain – the man wouldn’t sit for days without feeling a reminder of this spanking in his nether regions. It pleasured him to think of the questioning looks his crew would grant their captain when his distress was made obvious.

But he wanted more. He paused in Jack’s punishment, allowing his palm to hover a hair’s breadth from the searing hot skin of the pirate’s buttocks.

“Are you going to return the items you stole?” he asked.

“Now HOW would I explain that to my crew?” Jack replied, his voice showing the barest hint of strain. “Pirates don’t RETURN stolen goods.”

“Presumably, pirates don’t get soundly spanked for their deeds, either,” Norrington said with a chuckle. He lowered his palm just enough to lightly graze the sensitivity-heightened, scarlet flesh. As if on their own accord, the twin mounds rose just enough to meet it more firmly. The Commodore raised his eyebrows.

“Nor should they like it.”

“You’re insane, mate,” Jack said casually, digging his fingertips into his own palms. “Don’t blame me for your own perversions. It’s unbecoming an officer.”

Norrington ignored him. He slowly smoothed his palm flat over the curve, down to the scorched thighs and then just as languidly back up again. Jack shuddered, making the Commodore smirk. He reached a decision.

“You enjoy my touch, Sparrow. As a famous pirate captain, I am sure that no man would dare attempt to top you ….”

Jack couldn’t see much from his awkward position, but he could tell that something new was going on behind him. The Commodore was shifting position, fumbling with something that sounded like cloth. His eyes widened when he felt cool bare skin against his own hot rear end and sudden weight on his back. The Commodore’s breath touched his left ear as he finished his sentence.

“…. Except for me.”

Jack swallowed, licking dry lips. “I assure you, I am honoured by your intriguing offer. After all, you are very handsome, in spite of that prissy uniform and powdered wig. But there’s just one thing wrong with this situation, mate.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Captain Jack Sparrow is NEVER on the bottom.”

Pain exploded on the Commodore’s right foot as Jack brought his boot heel squarely down atop it. The grip on his wrists weakened slightly, just enough for the pirate to pull them free and attempt to push himself up from the table. However, Norrington recovered quickly and shoved Jack roughly back down, pinning him with his body.

“I repeat, except for me,” he growled, then drove into the other man.

Jack grunted, but managed not to cry out. Now it was to be rape then? The Commodore was indeed suited to a pirate’s life. Interesting.

Norrington held still for a few moments after entering Jack. He was tight, and probably in a lot of pain from the abrupt, unlubricated invasion. Not that the Commodore cared about that. He had only one thing in mind now – prove to this scalawag that being the famed ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ did NOT mean the outcome of every confrontation was guaranteed in his favour. Digging his fingers into Jack’s shoulders, he began to thrust.

Oh my, THAT hurts, Jack thought, gritting his teeth as he endured what was undoubtedly an attempt to break his spirit. It wasn’t going to be that easy. What the Commodore didn’t understand was that he always won because he refused to lose. If that meant re-examining a situation to suit himself, so be it.

Norrington had started slowly, but was building speed, thrusting deeper and harder. He could hear soft grunts from Jack every time his hips smacked against the reddened buttocks, but the pirate didn’t seem to be in any obvious distress. He wasn’t struggling or fighting to get free, and for once his never-ending mouth was shut. For his part, the Commodore had to admit the pressure and friction he experienced inside Jack’s body as he repeatedly drew back and pushed forward was more pleasurable than he expected. And that was not due to a sense of triumph. He would not have that unless Jack Sparrow begged him either to stop … or NOT to.

He decided to slow down his pace a bit, feeling his own body protest as his desire built. I’ll be damned, he thought wryly. I want him. I wonder when THAT started. This piece of human filth, this thief, this … pirate!

Norrington felt Jack squirm slightly at the change of pace and a different sound – one that might have been a soft moan – was emitted from between closed lips.

Touché. The Commodore smiled and silently congratulated himself. Without realizing it, Sparrow had just given him what he needed for that sense of triumph he’d been lacking.

There was no reason to hold back any longer, but Norrington still kept himself in check. Slowly, gradually, he began to build up the pace of his thrusts once more, but resisted the raging lust that threatened to overtake him and have him slam into the other man. He had enjoyed that subtle squirm and wanted Sparrow to give up more of himself to him. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he slid deep again but held suddenly, not finishing the thrust.

Jack growled in frustration and thrust back against him.

Norrington had to force back laughter, but decided to oblige the other man and himself both. He bore down and began pushing in earnest, no more holding back or teasing. Having given his own desire away, Jack found the Commodore’s rhythm and matched it until they both built to a near brutal climax and release. Jack’s beard beads clinked against the table top as he dropped his forehead to rest against the hard surface. He needed to catch his breath.

He wasn’t the only one. Norrington staggered slightly as he withdrew from the pirate’s body and fixed his clothes, finally sheathing his sword.

“You’re filthy,” he snapped at Jack. “You need a bath.”

“Well, I do NOW, don’t I?” Sparrow replied wryly, and the Commodore wanted to spank him again. But the time for indulgences was over – his men would be coming to check on them shortly.

“Get up, dress yourself,” he ordered Jack. “Do you think I wish to continue gazing at your ugly backside all day?”

“Aye, that I do,” Jack replied, slowly rising to a standing position, allowing his long coat to fall down and cover him while he pulled up his breeches. “But it would hardly be fair, mate. You’ve had your bit of fun.” He turned to stand in front of Norrington and poked him in the chest with a forefinger. “What I’d like to know is when do I get my turn in reciprocation?”

Norrington stared at Captain Jack Sparrow in disbelief. Somehow, the man had already come to terms with being spanked and raped by his enemy and had decided it was nothing more than a game. Maybe there really was no way to break this pirate.

But he _had_ made him want him. There would always be satisfaction in that.

He caught Jack’s wrist to stop the prodding finger. “This was not an exercise in fair play, Captain Sparrow. I have no intention of ever allowing you to reciprocate.” He walked to the window and opened it, letting fresh air flow freely across the room. He paused and looked back toward Jack.

“However,” he added, “today you were my prisoner and at my mercy, with men guarding your escape and you with no weapon to protect yourself.” He met the pirate’s eyes. “Should great good luck ever grant you favour to reverse our positions, and I should find myself prisoner aboard your ship, I give you my word that I will at least _consider_ reciprocation.”

Jack drew back, exaggerating a startled expression as he clasped a hand to his chest. Then a slow smile spread across his face, light glinting off the gold in his teeth.

“Then we have an accord,” he said, bowing his head graciously.

\--

Will Turner helped his new wife, Elizabeth, up into the waiting carriage It would bear them to a private location where they would enjoy their honeymoon.

Will was about to step up into the carriage himself when Elizabeth gasped, “Will, look who’s coming!”

Her husband turned and the two of them watched Commodore Norrington approach with none other than Captain Jack Sparrow preceding him. A few of Norrington’s men followed at some distance. Will and Elizabeth noticed that something was ‘off’ about Jack’s usual saunter, as if he was in some kind of discomfort. Will coloured and turned his face discreetly away from his wife’s line of sight. He remembered long hours aboard a stolen ship with Jack that resulted in his having a similar stilted walk. He recalled how the pirate had told him that Captain Jack Sparrow was NEVER on the bottom.

He wanted to shake the hand of the man who had managed it, whoever he may be.

“Good evening, Elizabeth,” Commodore Norrington greeted, giving Will a passing nod. “As you can see, I have brought a ‘friend’ of yours – he has something to say to you.” He gave Jack a significant look and the pirate stepped forward with a wide grin.

“Elizabeth, Will, I bring good news!” he said. “It was all a mistake, you see – the pirate who took your gifts was actually a newer member of my crew who didn’t know how close I am to you, and so –“

“SPARROW!” the Commodore said sharply. Jack sighed heavily and made a show of rolling his eyes.

“All _right_, the truth it is, then,” Jack said, then lowered his head in shame. “I borrowed the goods myself. I thought I could re-sell them and give you back much more than you would have had otherwise.”

“Minus a small finder’s fee for yourself, of course,” Will said wryly.

Jack raised his gaze and smiled. “Well, a pirate has to make a living.”

Elizabeth gave an exasperated ‘hmmph’ sound. “Jack, you’re incorrigible! Someone ought to spank you!”

Jack cleared his throat and Norrington snorted derisively. “Yes, well, if you don’t mind a brief detour, I brought Captain Sparrow here so that he could accompany you to his ship, where he has agreed to return your gifts.”

“No, let him keep them,” Will said, trying hard not to grin. The signs from both Jack and the Commodore were too easy to read once suspicion made itself known. He was fairly sure he knew what had transpired between them, and that knowledge was worth whatever the value of the stolen gifts. The next time he and Jack had occasion to be alone, he would have no end of fun bringing it up and teasing him mercilessly.

There was a visible blush showing through the dirt on Jack’s face now, but he kept the others from noticing it by bowing. “Thank you both – my gratitude knows no bounds. I hope you will have a wonderful honeymoon.”

“Why, thank you, Jack.” Elizabeth looked a little confused – she had the feeling there was an undercurrent at work that she hadn’t quite figured out yet. She vowed to pump Will for information as soon as he was in the carriage, and if he didn’t give it to her, he could spend his honeymoon on the beach. Alone.

“Well then!” Jack clapped his hands together. “The Commodore said I might take my leave once the goods were returned, but as you say nay to that, I shall be on my way!” He grinned at Norrington and pressed his palms together in front of him, giving a quick nod. “Next time we meet, Commodore Norrington, it will be in _my_ element, I assure you.”

“Go on with you, Sparrow, before I change my mind,” Norrington warned. The pirate wasted no more time and headed for the beach as fast as his current physical limitations allowed.

“Whatever is wrong with Jack?” Elizabeth asked. “And Commodore – why would you let him go? I’m glad you _did_, mind you, and I realize I did ask it of you earlier, but it still surprises me since he has eluded you time and again.”

“You aren’t the only one who was surprised today, Mrs. Turner,” Norrington remarked and began to leave.

“Just one moment, Commodore!” Will caught up to him and when the other man turned, he held out his hand toward him. “I just want to shake your hand.” Will grinned broadly. “For a job well done.”

Norrington held his gaze for a moment, then grasped his hand and shook it firmly. “It was my pleasure,” he assured the younger man, and as they parted to return to those awaiting them, both were trying not to laugh.

\--

(2004)

All Pirates of the Caribbean characters are owned by Disney.

This fic is not to be re-posted.


End file.
